


The Most Important

by Zalakbian



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Self-Doubt, Trans!Bernadetta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zalakbian/pseuds/Zalakbian
Summary: All the most important times Bernadetta and Petra were there for each other, and what comes from that.
Relationships: Petra Macneary/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	The Most Important

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cookabeara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookabeara/gifts).



> Written for the wonderful and amazingly talented [Cookabeara](https://twitter.com/Cookabeara)
> 
> Big thanks to my wonderful gf Kathryn for helping to beta this, I love you <3
> 
> If you like this, please consider joining to talk about it on the [Edeleth Discord Server](https://discord.gg/m2AVbJ3) I run! You can also [follow me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/MariMari07_01)

_1186, Great Tree Moon, one day before the Second Battle of the Tailtean Plains_

In the days leading up to the deployment of the Imperial Army, the once bustling activity and chatter around the former academy grounds grew softer and quieter, until it was barely a simmer. Everyone knew the final battle was fast approaching. Edelgard’s spies in the Kingdom had reported a similar mobilization of troops in Fhirdiad, with the prediction that it would all come to ahead on those historic plains of yore. The weather was also worsening as the days crept by. Early spring rains that turned threatened to flood the lower levels of the academy grounds, and demanded the fishing hole be sandbagged to keep the contents from spilling forth. But with the clash of armies fast approaching, and the skies threatening to swallow everyone whole, a small but personally important battle was being waged in one of the small student dorms.

“Does… does this part go over or under? Oh… I’m going to screw this up for sure.”

“Bernie, take a deep breath… okay… outwards to inwards, that is how you weave the braid.”

Fuschia locks trembled in Bernadetta’s hands as they repeated the motions over and over, doing their best not to tug, nor to lose grip and have to start all over.

“Ok… at the end, now what?”

“Just tuck the end under the hair tie… it’s easy as pie!”

Bernadetta paused to blink. “Pie?”

Petra turned her head slightly, enough that Bernadetta could see the hint of confusion in her left eye. “That is a… ‘figure of speech’ you use, is it not?” She asked.

“Oh!” Bernadetta scrambled as she almost lost the end of the braid, managing to tuck it into Petra’s ponytail just as instructed. “Yes it is! I just… pie isn’t exactly um, the easiest food to make when you think about it.”

“But you make it look so easy Bernie!” Petra turned around and praised. “Not only are your baking skills… um, top notch! But now your braiding skills are growing fast as well!”

Bernadetta shyly rubbed the back of her head in mild embarrassment, unable to do much but sputter quiet ‘thank yous’ and ‘you’re too kind to me.’ In response Petra reached out and enveloped Bernadetta in a warm hug, rubbing her own cheek against the archer’s own.

“Much thanks for helping me with my braids. It has been a long time since anybody has done so, and I am very glad it is you, Bernie.”

Berndeatta smiled as they slowly returned the embrace, breathing a sigh of relief as they let their body rest in Petra’s gentle arms. “I’m glad I could help… It was fun, if a bit nerve wracking, but you’re so patient and understanding… I’m really happy we get to spend our time together like this.”

Petra continued to stroke the back of Bernadetta’s head, cooing softly as the sounds of downpour overcrowded the ambience. There was but one thing left on both women’s minds as the raindrops filled their ears, but to give it voice would potentially poison the mood for the rest of the night. Instead, as both slowly retreated, hands running down the length of each other’s arms, Petra and Bernadetta locked equally weary eyes, it had to be asked.

“Are… are you going to be ok? You know… for tomorrow?” Bernadetta spoke first, slightly surprising their friend. Petra put on another smile as she brushed away an errant string that was stuck on top of Bernadetta’s head, both of their faces brightening in turn.

“As long as you are there, I know we will prevail.” Petra claimed. “You are watching my back, and I am watching yours, Bernadetta. No one will get past us.”

Bernadetta took a deep breath, but said no more. They couldn’t fault Petra, nor could they raise any concerns. Petra needed to be able to depend on them, and Bernadetta needed to depend on Petra. They had to keep each other safe for the future ahead, and for that Bernadetta would swallow their misgivings and muster up every ounce of courage and strength they could, anything to protect their family.

“But… what about after?” Bernadetta suddenly asked. The rain almost seemed to pause to give more weight to the seemingly innocuous question. “After the war, I mean.” They clarified, each word adding a new note of concern to the Brigid princess’ face. “You’ll go back to your home, and we won’t be able to look out for each other… I don’t want to think about it, but it’s coming fast, Petra.”

However, it only took a moment for the light to shine in Petra’s head, and she quickly presented her solution. “You could come home with me, Bernie, to Brigid.”

“What?!” Bernadetta yelped, and nearly jumped off the bed they were sitting on. “But could I, um, how would I be able to do that?” They asked in a panic.

Petra had an answer for that as well. “We both know that Edelgard will be abolishing the idea of Fódlan nobility. That sounds quite like an… endorsement! To choose your own path in life, and I know she would eagerly will you to come with me if that is what you pleaded.”

A sense of relief washed over Bernadetta as they exhaled softly. “If you… if you want, then sure…” They mumbled back. But as Bernadetta took another look at Petra’s beaming smile, they gave their head a quick shake, and replied again with much more aplomb. “I’d love to come to Brigid with you, Petra. I don’t want to lose you in my life, you’ve given me so much: friendship, courage, compassion… I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

“You are important to me too, Bernie, and I would want nothing less than to have you by my side in the coming days.”

Spirits and cheers were high at this new pledge, but secretly Bernadetta began to harbour a dark and growing thought, one that gnawed all the way past the final battle, to somber farewells, and across the ocean’s voyage to the island nation.

_She’s going to be Queen, ruler of an entire country._

_What good would you possibly do for her then?_

…..

_1187, Blue Sea Moon, day of Queen Petra Macneary’s coronation_

“Petra, you’re swaying again. My hands are steady but you’ll get pricked if you don’t keep still.”

“Oh, my apologies Bernie, I will try my hardest to… be as the tree.”

“Be the tree…? Oh! I get it! Wow, you never miss an opportunity to test my learning, do you?”

My apol… I am sorry, my mind is currently… very strained.”

“Don’t worry about it, Petra. So… you’re excited?”

“In a certain way, yes. But actually, I’m nervous.”

This time Berndetta really did slip with the needle, though they ended up poking their own pointer finger, yelping back and briefly sucking on the thankfully still intact tip. “You’re anxious? But… all you’ve been talking about the past few weeks is how much you’re looking forward to this?” Bernadetta asked as they resumed their stitching work.

“This is a completely life changing event for me, with… mountains of new responsibility.” Petra quietly replied, her head sunken at a slight angle. “I would think it to be impossible for anyone in this position to not be nervous… but I chose to wear the brave face for everyone’s benefit.”

Bernadetta stopped as a chill washed over their cheeks. “Oh… Petra, I’m so sorry… I never really realized.” They murmured back, the room falling silent afterwards. With no conversation resuming, Bernadetta quickly finished the tear in Petra’s colourful, ceremonial robes. They tied the ends of the string and gave the fabric a once over to make sure it wasn’t too noticeable, feeling relief themselves once their thumbs up brought a sigh of relief from Petra’s lips. “So um… was this-” Bernadetta pointed to the now mended tear, “-part of that anxiety?”

Bernadetta looked aside as Petra began to flush with embarrassment, both choosing that moment to scratch the back of their heads in mutual feelings. “It is… a very foolish thing I did, Bernie.” Petra flatly admitted.

“You… you tore it?”

“No, this happened because I fell out of a tree.”

Bernadetta's eyes bulged as they tried their hardest not to let a chuckle escape, but the silly smile stretched across their face gave all intentions away. “Why, um… hah… were you up in a tree? Unless…” Their face focused together as thoughts were collected. “You were climbing trees… to relax yourself before the big day?”

“You know me too well, Bernie.” Petra smiled back.

Now both women laughed, and decided to take a seat together in the antechamber outside the throne room. Petra fiddled her thumbs together impatiently while Bernadetta simply rested a hand atop her thigh in a silent gesture of support. 

“Petra, I just have one more question, sorry if they’re added stress.”

“Not at all Bernie, ask away.”

“Why come to me for help? Wouldn’t you have… royal seamstresses?”

Bernadetta and Petra looked at one another with a blush of red, their hands slowly, unknowingly gravitating closer together.

“I came to you because you are the best, and I know you to always have a sewing kit on hand.” Petra praised.

“Petra, I…” Their hands were touching if only barely now, until both were suddenly interrupted by a palace staff requesting that the princess take her place. They both wordlessly stood up, seemingly separated by the needs of state, only for Petra to beckon that Bernadetta should enter with her.

“Come, you deserve to be in there, I couldn’t have gotten here without you.”

_Forget about it, Bernadetta, you’re not special._

_She doesn’t need you, you’re just a leech._

Bernadetta swallowed the lump in her throat, and together they opened the grand, mahogany doors of the throne room.

…..

_1187, 7th of Horsebow Moon, Queen Petra Macneary’s twenty-third birthday_

If Berndetta stared any harder through the tempered window of their oven, they were sure the glow of the heat inside would give their soft cheeks a nasty burn. Everything had to go perfectly, it was the Queen’s special day after all, and Bernadetta had spent the entire day trying to make the most amazing mango cake for their friend. This was attempt number five and they were beginning to worry that it simply would not be done in time by the end of the ‘official’ royal celebration. First it was much too sweet, and Bernadetta knew Petra was not a fan of traditional Fódlan sugary treats, preferring the natural flavour of fresh fruits and nuts. Then came two burned husks of cake as Bernadetta tried to spend time with Petra at the gala, finding that simply running to the kitchen every few minutes was not sufficient to prevent a disaster. The fourth cake Bernadetta thought tasted fine, it was just… wrong. There was too much frosting, the mangos weren’t sliced pretty, the cake wasn’t symmetrical. Bernadetta thought about throwing it away in a fit and giving before deciding to take one more chance, this time with a little help from the palace kitchen staff in exchange for their aborted fourth attempt.

The second the cake was out of the oven Bernadetta was chilling it down with careful application of ice magic, just enough so the frosting wouldn’t melt as they applied it, but not too much to turn Petra’s birthday cake into a popsicle. Their hands worked quickly to pipe the mango cream spread evenly over the confection, thinking any minute Petra would start wondering where they were and ruin the surprise. Next came the mango slices, graciously prepared in advance by one of the other chefs, and arranged delicately to look like a miniature sun atop the white frosting. The last touches were a light shaving of dark chocolate and a drizzle of fresh guava purée for colour and contrast. Bernadetta took a step back and sized up their creation along with a pair of curious kitchen staff looking over their shoulders. They checked all angles, walking a full three hundred and sixty degrees around the cake, looking from a distance, looking from close up, all while making sure it smelled just right.

“...Yes! It’s perfect!” Bernadetta shouted with glee, and then immediately froze in terror.

“What is perfect, Bernie?” Petra had snuck up behind them and asked.

Bernadetta wheeled around and spread their arms out to block sight of the cake, the staff getting the picture and silently peeling away. Petra however took this as a challenge to try and peer behind Bernadetta’s back, who had to shift to increasingly awkward angles to keep their friend’s curious eyes away from their cake.

“Petra! Please!” Bernadetta began to plead. “I don’t want to ruin your surprise!”

Petra pouted slightly, but appeared to back down, taking a couple steps back while Bernadetta breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry.” Petra apologized, “I just kept missing you at the party, I know you’ve been lonely because of how busy my new post has made me, so I just wanted to spend as much time now with you as I could.” She mused. Bernadetta took another deep breath, they had missed Petra a lot these past months, trying to occupy their time with cultivating all varieties of flowers from their exploration of Brigid’s wilds.

“I’m sorry too.” Bernadetta replied. “I’d like to have a special celebration with you, just the two of us, after the party is over, is that ok?”

Petra’s smile put any worry Bernadetta had to bed, “Of course, I’ll look forward to it Bernie.” And she turned to rejoin the festivities. Bernadetta had finished the cake, but there were a few more items they needed to finish, so they took the treat and stealthily retreated back to their room to prepare.

Everything had to go perfect.

The sun had almost completely set by the time Petra was allowed to leave her own party, dodging visitors with well wishes, suitors and prominent officials left and right to escape her own party and be where she truly wished to celebrate. She wasn’t sure what to expect when opening the door to Bernadetta’s residence in the palace, but right away Petra was startled by a loud, blaring party horn almost right in her face.

“Surprise!” Bernadetta greeted with glee, hopping over and affixing a glittery, conical party hat to Petra’s head while she was still frozen in shock. “Happy birthday!”

Petra blinked a few more times as Bernadetta gave another hearty call from the party horn, finally taking a moment to look around the well decorated room she had stepped into. Colourful letters of fabric spelling HAPPY BIRTHDAY PETRA were hung just in front of the window, along with ribbons dangling from the ceiling and door frame. What caught her eye the most apart from Bernadetta’s beautiful smile and their own silly party hat was a very expertly looking cake placed centre stage on the side table, flanked by a pair of plates and cutlery. Even though she was honestly worn out from all the pomp and circumstance of the previous celebration, seeing Bernadetta here with all the effort they’d put in, still flush with the biggest smile on their face, it was just what she needed.

“Thank you so much, Bernie!” Petra reached forward and pulled them into a powerful hug, one Bernadetta wasn’t quite ready for, their arms not able to wrap around and return the embrace. “I assume this is what you were trying to keep a secret in the kitchen?” She asked referring to the mango cake, leading Bernadetta to chuckle nervously while rubbing their forearm.

“I know you had a lot to eat already so you don’t need to- ah!”

Bernadetta stopped as she saw Petra unceremoniously jab a fork right into the side of the cake and peel off a rather substantial chunk that she immediately stuffed right into her awaiting mouth. Any residual worry Bernadetta might have had about the quality of their creation was immediately quelled as Petra seemed to squeal with joy, shaking her hands and smiling as much as she could through a full mouth. After a particularly noticeable swallow and gasp for air Petra grabbed Bernadetta’s shoulders so they could squirm with pleasure alongside her.

“I love it! What a wonderful, fruity cake!” And she was already digging in for another bite. Bernadetta smiled along, and when beckoned by Petra to join in grabbed their own fork to help in demolishing the mango confection. Merely a few minutes later both women were left as giggling messes massaging full stomachs side by side on Bernadetta’s bed, crumbs and bits of fruit and icing dotting each of their faces. Feeling braver than ever, Bernadetta crept over and picked a piece of icing off Petra’s cheek, quickly stuffing it in her mouth with a silly grin as Petra looked back at them, heavily blushing. Not to be undone, the Queen almost tackled Bernadetta over as she tried and succeeded to get close enough to lick a collection of crumbs off Bernadetta’s face. Now they were both grinning, blushy messes, and they laughed harder than either ever had at any point in their lives.

“Hey, Bernie?”

“What is it Petra?”

She wrapped her arms around Bernadetta and hugged her much more tenderly. “Thank you for everything, this made my day.”

“Did I…? Oh, you’re welcome, Petra.”

“...You’re my most special, important friend, Bernie, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Thank you… I feel the same way.”

When Petra finally, reluctantly had to get up to retire to her room to sleep, Bernadetta felt a sickening emptiness in their chest that they tried to will away, huddled up close to their favourite stuffie under the covers.

_Don’t get any ideas, Bernadetta._

She doesn’t love you back.

…..

_1188, Ethereal Moon, the funeral of former King Carrick Macneary_

In Fódlan, the tradition is to wear all black at a service, a reflection of the sombre mood that typically accompanies most funerals. Weeping widows, distraught family, grieving friends, it was always a mood of ‘taken from us too soon’, spent mourning what ifs and should have beens. Bernadetta quickly learned that funeral services in Brigid had a completely different philosophy, one that they would likely take awhile to get used to. Dancers performed to a cheering audience, performers juggled live fire, there was singing, and laughing, and enough food to feed an army. It was a celebration of life, occasionally interspersed with personal stories about the late king and his deeds, followed by prayers to the spirits to receive his soul in splendor.

Bernadetta had only talked to Petra’s grandfather a handful of times during the time they’d spent in Brigid, and never without Petra with them. He didn’t speak any of the Fódlan tongue, at least to Bernadetta, so they were only able to go off Petra’s interpretations and his own body language. Even with the bits of Brigid tongue they’d been learning thanks to Petra’s tutlege it was near impossible to understand the King through his deep voice and thick accent, but they never got the impression that he was anything but a kind, considerate, person with an aged and weary heart. Late in his battle during the last time Bernadetta had accompanied Petra to visit him, the late king had tugged at their sleeve, and whispered something to which they had little understanding of, and that Petra didn’t seem to want to translate for them.

“I-It was personal, that’s all.” Were Petra’s only words on the matter.

The only part of his last words that Bernadetta could fully suss out was that Petra’s grandfather had called them ‘worthy’. What exactly they were worthy of Bernadetta had no clue. Any chance to learn now seemed to have passed, and Bernadetta wasn’t going to potentially hurt Petra’s feelings by pressing her further by what he meant. In fact, they had hardly seen Petra since her tribute to her grandfather near the beginning of the ceremony, last they had seen of her she was talking to one of her cousins, and then, she disappeared. Petra didn’t seem that broken up during the celebration of life, but Bernadetta was well aware from their own experiences that not all hurt showed on the outside. They had been there when Petra held her grandfather’s hand for the final time, they were there when Petra was struggling with how exactly to honour him in her speech, they would go and be with her now, because Bernadetta could tell she needed a friend by her side.

In the end it truly wasn’t very difficult to figure out where Petra has run off to. Ever since that day Bernadetta has mended Petra’s coronation robes, they'd known her to sneak off and climb up trees in times of stress and anxiety, and there was one tree in particular that Bernadetta was almost sure Petra was in. It was an old, tall, spiraling eucalyptus tree that had been around since the Macneary’s came to power in Brigid, planted generations ago a short hike from the palace gates. Bernadetta had never really spent time with Petra there per se, they knew it was a place she often went to be alone, to think or destress, and they didn’t want to accidentally add to that. What Bernadetta did was sneak by and stealthily leave bundled snacks and treats by the base of the tree so Petra wouldn’t go hungry. Bernadetta figured she knew who was bringing them, but since they always came by at night, typically when Petra had nodded off, they hadn’t been officially caught in the act of disturbing her. This time however they were going to make their presence very known.

“Petra! Hah…” Bernadetta had to stop for a moment to catch her breath after running the entire way to the enclosure. “Are you up there?” They called out. There was a slight pause before the distant sounds of leaves rustling and a couple of fallen twigs produced that familial fuschia colour looking down at Bernadetta from the top of the tree. It was starting to get dark near the end of the day, but Bernadetta was sure that Petra was up there, and they waved to her.

“Bernie? Is that you? Hold on, I’ll come down-”

“No no!” Bernadetta quickly shouted back, and began to rub their hands together. “I’m coming up, just wait!” And they leapt onto the pale bark of the tree. Petra was content to watch from up top as Bernadetta struggled to climb up the winding trunk, half in awe and half in worry, until a slight slip and yelp gave her more panic.

“Bernie! It’s ok, I-” But she was interrupted again.

“I’ve got this!” Bernadetta asserted through uneasy breaths. “I can climb… one silly tree…! After all my time spent… scouring the hills and mountains for flowers!”

It took several tense minutes but slowly, foot by foot Bernadetta found herself at the top branches where Petra was awaiting them with eyes wide open in shock. “I can’t believe it!” She exclaimed, lightly grabbing Bernadetta by the shoulders as she shook on the spot. “You’re incredible!”

Bernadetta however was just going their best to avoid looking down, taking a moment to wipe a collection of sweat off their forehead, they chuckled nervously at having made such an arduous climb.

“Yeah… I guess… but anyway, are you doing ok?” They were quick to get back to the reason they were here. Petra’s smile and excitement slowly faded as reality set back in for them both, replaced by that same subtle look of mourning from earlier in the day. Bernadetta could see the faintest streaks of dried tears down Petra’s cheek in the growing glow of moonlight, and gently extended a hand to wipe them away, ending with a gentle caress on the Queen’s cheek. “The others might expect you to appear strong, to happily celebrate along with the rest of them… but it’s ok to be sad, and it’s ok to cry.”

Petra was looking like she was about to begin weeping again, so Bernadetta did their best to shuffle forward on the precarious treetop and give her a much needed hug. There they stayed together for what felt like an eternity, Petra sobbing into Bernadetta’s shoulder, wishing she had more time to learn from her grandfather, that after being away for so long she’d lost him too soon.

“I’m alone now… the last Macneary.” Petra continued to weep. “My mother, father, uncle, brother… and now my grandfather. My whole family has been taken from me.”

“No, you aren’t alone, Petra.” 

Petra leaned back as Bernadetta let go, only for them to gently grasp her hand and hold it close between them, just apart from each of their mouths. “You have the Black Eagles always standing by your side if you need them, you have Edelgard and Byleth ready to move ocean and mountain to come to your aid, and you have me, for whatever I’m worth, I’ll always stick by you, Petra.”

“...Always? You’ll never leave me?”

“From the moment you asked me to come to Brigid with you, I knew I wanted nothing less.”

Both women blushed, and it was at this moment it dawned upon Bernadetta that they were openly holding Petra’s hand for the first time. It was strong, and still rough from a lifetime of adventure, hunting and warfare, but in Bernadetta’s opinion her hand was the softest, most precious gift they’d ever had the pleasure to receive. Embarrassment finally started to overtake the rest of Bernadetta’s emotions, and their eyes darted left and right, eventually their head turning to the side, too self conscious to continue looking at Petra’s glowing, heartfelt eyes.

But that hand they admired so much gently turned Bernadetta back, and before they could even guess, Petra’s lips were upon theirs.

“I’m ok now… now that you’re here with me.” Petra finally answered after their lips parted. “You’re always there to cheer me up, to encourage me, I wouldn’t be anywhere without you.”

Bernadetta was in shock, their heart feeling like it was going to beat out of their chest, anxiety demanding that they ask, “Does this mean?”

“Yes, yes I do, Bernie.”

More tears were shared between them as the sun fully set, walled off emotions finally released, a sense of pure bliss and happiness was the only feeling left. Truth be told however, Bernadetta did have one final issue, in that they had no idea how to successfully climb down from the tree.

But that could wait, they figured. After all, it was a convenient excuse to spend more private time with their beloved.


End file.
